Comments about Charles Stuart Calverley

Peace. A Study

He stood, a worn-out City clerk — Who'd toil'd, and seen no holiday, For forty years from dawn to dark — Alone beside Caermarthen Bay. He felt the salt spray on his lips; Heard children's voices on the sands; Up the sun's path he saw the ships Sail on and on to other lands; And laugh'd aloud. Each sight and sound To him was joy too deep for tears; He sat him on the beach, and bound A blue bandana round his ears And thought how, posted near his door, His own green door on Camden ...

Beer

1 In those old days which poets say were golden --2 (Perhaps they laid the gilding on themselves:3 And, if they did, I'm all the more beholden4 To those brown dwellers in my dusty shelves,5 Who talk to me 'in language quaint and olden'6 Of gods and demigods and fauns and elves,7 Pan with his pipes, and Bacchus with his leopards,8 And staid young goddesses who flirt with shepherds:)